Elysium Fields
by XfiretearsX
Summary: Who exactly is Keira Raine? And why should we care who she is?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I was J.K. Rowling I would probably be working on writing the Deathly Hallows, not be rotting in front of a computer writing fanfiction to the story that I invented. I only own Keira, and no matter how hard I wish, I will never own Harry. Or Oliver. Or Fred.

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Life has never been good to me. I don't mean to sound pessimistic. Really, I don't. I've always thought of myself as invincible, as able to withstand anything. But that totally didn't work out for me. Reading this, you're probably very confused. So I suppose I might as well start at the beginning.

I was born on October 7 in a dirty hovel in London. My mother is Bellatrix Lestrange. And, contrary to popular belief, my father is not Rudolphus. Oh, no. My father is none other than the infamous Lord Voldemort. And, as his sole heir, the entire workload falls to me. All of the dirty work too dangerous for Voldemort to complete.

When I turned 11 and was carted off to Hogwarts, I did as I was instructed. I made friends with Harry Potter. And his band of friends. Under a false name, of course. I was sorted into Gryffindor, also as instructed. And that was where my instructions ended. I didn't know what to do. But it was then I made perhaps the gravest mistake of my life. I actually befriended Potter.

You see, that makes it all the more difficult. Especially now. The trio is absolute in their belief of me. But I have conflicting orders. From my pleasant father: "Bring Potter to me. Watch me destroy him." And of course, from my heart: "Save Potter. Warn him. Tell him everything." But I have never been sensible. Which is a problem. You see, against every warning, I have fallen in love. At sixteen, I am in love with the man I am to as good as murder.

My name is Keira Cassiopeia Raine. Well, technically it's Keira Cassiopeia Lestrange, but when I say Lestrange, I get fearful looks from just about everybody. And I certainly can't imagine Potter cozying up to a Death Eater's daughter. I certainly shudder at the thought of what is to come.

A/N: Please, please, please let me know what you think. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, and I would really like to know if it was simply awful. I promise I won't get mad if you absolutely hated it. I think a flame would be better than getting no feedback at all. I'll try to update weekly, but I have to work, party, and snog, so I might be a bit busy! So...anyway...this is a very long A/N...haha. I'm toying with the idea of having Sirius live, as well. But I really don't know. You can message me about that too! Bye!


	2. Chapter 2

Elysium Fields

I peeked into a carriage, and sighed after seeing it was already full. I was nearing the end of the train, yet there was no space left in any of the compartments. Of course, there was always Draco Malfoy's compartment, and I'm sure he would welcome me with open arms, but I was trying the stay inconspicuous. There was no need to get myself discovered so soon, especially after I spent six long years covering my past.

"Don't have a place to sit?" I spun around, sighing in relief at the tone I heard.

"Hermione! It's so nice to see you, how was your summer?" I shot her a grin, happy to see one of my "best" friends.

"It was great. Very. . . secretive. Hey, do you want to join Harry, Ron, and me? We've got the very last compartment in the back of the train. I think Luna and Neville are with us too."

The bushy brown-haired girl walked off, looking relatively happy. She didn't even notice that I hesitated after she said Harry. My breath caught in my throat, and I gulped nervously. My heart still went crazy when I heard his name, even after all this time.

So I followed Hermione to the back, putting on a charming smile. I hated being by Ron and Hermione because I knew of the traitorous actions I would take against them in the future. They had immediately taken a great liking to me as I was smart, on Hermione's side, and funny, on Ron's side. And Harry? Well, Harry was just. . . Harry. He had sent me shy glances throughout our years, and there was no way a young, vulnerable girl like me could have resisted those looks.

I've probably hinted enough about my past for you to be curious by now. Who am I? My name is Keira Cassiopeia Raine. You already know my history. Daughter of Bellatrix and Voldemort, damned until death to help my murderous father. Yeah, all that good stuff. And you also know that I am madly in love with the Boy-Who-Will-Soon-Be-Betrayed-By-The-Girl-I-Think-He-Loves, a.k.a. me. Quite interesting, eh?

"Keira, hi! How was your summer?" a delighted Ron asked, eagerly greeting me. He smiled and rose, looking exactly the same as she had last year. Basically, that meant he towered over my medium-heighted frame, though we were the same age.

I greeted Luna and Neville with a smile, wave, and a polite hello. I wasn't really acquainted with them, but they were nice people, if not a bit daffy. I looked around the small compartment, looking for the one guy I had come there for. Then I saw him, and my stomach dropped. He was moodily sitting in the corner, staring out the window. A wave of understanding hit me. Sirius Black had died last school year, and Harry felt he was directly responsible. I winced, also remembering that it was my mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, who had caused that death. I had never met Sirius Black, but I had heard all of the rumors of him killing Lily and James Potter. I knew that wasn't true though. Peter Pettigrew had sold out the loving couple.

I walked slowly towards him, taking one step at a time.

"Harry?" I asked hesitantly. I wasn't sure how emotionally stable he was at the moment.

He turned his emerald eyes toward me, and I mentally flinched. There was so much anger, so much hurt in his expression that it made me feel that same emotions he was suffering from.

When he took in who I was, his eyes lightened briefly, but soon returned back to their tragic, bright-green pools of despair.

"Hi Keira," he muttered.

I smiled, putting on a happy face. There was no need for his mood to influence my outward appearance. After all, a person can't heal by being around people who share the same depressed view on life.

"Hey. Do you mind if I sit next to you?" I shyly asked, hoping he wouldn't turn me down.

"Go ahead."

"Thank you, Harry." I sat down gingerly, unsure of whether or not to start a conversation. Ron and Hermione were chatting nervously, obviously trying to avoid an argument that would, in turn, set Harry off.

Instead, I turned and smiled warmly at Harry. He glanced at me briefly before turning back to the window.

"So, how was your summer? We had some really nice weather this year! I remember a couple years ago, it was raining buckets. I mean, I couldn't go outside the entire time, and it was so gosh darn boring, really-"

"I don't give a bloody crap, so do you mind shutting up?" Harry interrupted, his voice laced thoroughly with anger.

I winced, expecting this sort of behavior, just not to this degree. I looked down, holding back tears.

"Sorry. . . Um, I-I'll just go sit by Ron and Hermione," I stuttered nervously, gesturing pointlessly with my hands.

"Just go away," he hissed, turning towards me, his green eyes filled with hatred.

I stumbled slowly towards the front of the compartment. The look in those angry eyes lingered in front of my eyes, and that look reminded me of what I was hiding behind my façade. One day, in the future, that look would be cast at me again, but for a much more devastating reason than just rambling. That one part of me, the part that loved him unquestioningly, ached at the thought of what was going to happen.


	3. Chapter 3

I stumbled up the slick steps, cursing my misfortune as I splashed through a puddle. My hurt and surprise turned quickly to anger. If Harry could get away with behaving like a child, then damnit, why couldn't I?

I fumed as I sat at the Gryffindor table. Harry sat next to me. He stiffened as I turned towards him. Dumbledore started the beginning of term speech, and a minute later the sorting began. I glared at Harry once more.

"What?" he said.

"You know bloody well what!" I spat.

"Do you really think I care about your summer? My god-father is dead! The only one who really cared! And it's my fault."

Adele Aldridge was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"You prat! Do you think you're the only one who's lost someone they love?"

"I'm probably the only one who's lost three." He sulked.

"You self-centered git! I can't believe you!"

Aileen Laroche was sorted into Slytherin. Certain courageous Ravenclaws hissed as she passed their table.

"There are worse things than death, Harry. And you'd do well to stop slapping your friends in the face! This chosen one crap is really getting to you! You ego's double over the summer. Did it ever enter you thick skull that Voldemort mayn't want you, but rather something you have?" I continued. It was a stupid question, for all that Harry Potter, the-Boy-Who-Lived, the "Chosen One", the savior of the world, thought of was himself.

As the sorting ended, our feud did as well. Or, it was rather postponed until the Common Room.

"Did you get a load of the Parsifal bloke? Parsifal…imagine having a name like that...must be a real prat," Ron mused, laughing. "Still," he continued, "can't be as bad as that Onderdonk girl," he snorted.

"Ron!!" Hermione hissed, as a girl farther down the table burst into tears. "Anyway," she said. "Parsifal was later Anglican zed to Percival. Your brother, Ron."

"My point exactly. He's a right foul git."

"And he's not the only one." I interjected, getting up from the table. "I'm going to unpack."

Hermione sighed, leaning across the table. "Look Harry," she started.

"Oh!-not from you too. Can't you just leave off?" Harry snapped. He stormed off, leaving an upset Hermione, and a bewildered Ron.

It was late; the embers of the fire in the common room were barely flickering. I suppose I must have dozed off while finishing my essay for Binns. The next thing I knew, someone was sitting on me.

"Ooh!" I grunted. "Have a care!"

"Didn't see you. Sorry." Said Harry.

"Oh. It's you is it." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Obviously."

"Look!!" I sat up, jabbing him in the chest. "We were all there, Harry. We all lost a friend. We all lost Sirius. You think its bad for you? Imagine Remus, and how he feels. Sirius is dead. Your father's dead." He winced, but I continued. "Pettigrew's as good as dead, and Remus would probably prefer it if he were. So you can quite trying to be all emo, because it's not working out that well for you."

He sighed, running his fingers through his tangled mass of hair.

"Alright." He said. "I've been a royal prat. I'm sorry. I don't deserve you."

"Damn right you don't" He hugged me. "You should really be getting to bed," he said.

"I can't!" I gestured to the parchments strewn across the table. "I have to finish that paper on Ridgebit. But who really cares about dragon sanctuaries, anyway?" Harry laughed.

"Well, he started. "Charlie does, and I'm sure that"

I cut him off "That was a rhetorical question, Harry. What did you come down for anyway?

He looked away.

"Nothing," he mumbled, "just a bad dream."

I immediately regretted some of the harsh things I'd said.

"Well, goodnight, Harry."

"What about your paper?" he asked.

"What else is Transfiguration for? I asked, smiling.

He laughed. "G'night." I headed up the stairs to the dormitory, my head swirling with thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun shone threw the windows brightly, and I covered my eyes, groaning. I had no idea what time it was, but I didn't want to know.

"Keira? Keira, wake up! You're going to be late for breakfast," Hermione said, pushing me slightly.

I simply let out a muttered string of profanities and rolled over.

"Keira! Get up! And I heard that," she growled uncharacteristically. I turned again, glaring at her.

"Screw breakfast, I'll just starve myself. I'm tired! Besides, I was having the greatest dream ever," I shot at her, already preparing my mind to fall back into a peaceful slumber.

Hermione groaned in a very Hermione-ish way and walked off. I heard her rummage through her nightstand drawer and pull something out. I then carelessly disregarded this, not bothering enough to check what she was doing.

There was just one problem though. I had forgotten that she kept her wand in that drawer. Before I could process that wandering thought, I was lifted into the air rather gracefully.

"Hermione! Stop, please! I'll get up, I promise, just stop levitating me!" I protested. Most people would go for the free, careless, floating-on-nothing feeling, but I myself prefer solid ground, or even better, broomsticks.

I felt myself being slowly lowered back onto my comfy, warm bed—oh wait, this was no bed. This was the stone-hard feeling of the ground.

"Fine then. You'd better get ready now. If you're not in the Great Hall in twenty minutes, I'll come back here and remind you about the unruly habit of being late," Hermione said, sticking her wand into her bag pocket and walking out the dormitory.

I groaned yet again, remembering her "lectures". The last one had been about treating house-elves correctly and her whole S.P.E.W. madness. I had joined, of course, but only to calm her down rather than be thrown into the fire by an irate young witch.

I rather resentfully stumbled out of bed and dragged my feet toward the bathroom. It was only there that I could reflect over my life. That was the only place I could experience peace and quiet. Those few, brief moments were probably the only reason I held on to my sanity.

After removing my clothes, I stepped into the shower and turned it on to hot. I sighed, relaxed, as the blazing hot water poured down onto me and steam slowly started rising from the stall. Only one thought ran through my head.

Harry. Harry Potter. The love of my life. The person I was destined to kill. How had I gotten myself into this predicament? Just as I thought I had gotten over him, he came back, full of his sweetness and loving. It killed me to even think about such a thing. I would soon betray him yet I couldn't stop watching him, yearning for him.

The irony was just unbelievably cruel.

I felt a tear slipping down from my eye, slowly progressing along down my cheek. I sighed, upset. It was early in the morning, and I was already distraught. This would be a long day.

Stepping out of the shower, I reached for a fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around myself. The clock on the wall said it was ten minutes past the time Hermione left. I walked back into the dorm and pulled on my robes. Then, after five laborious minutes of applying mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow, foundation, and lip gloss, I grabbed my bags and wand, sprinting for the door.

Like always, I tripped over the ledge leading into the Great Hall, but managed to stay upright. I walked towards the Gryffindor table, fully intent on finding Harry and plunking myself next to him. But however, an obstacle by the name of Draco Malfoy blocked my way.

"Keira," he said, looking at me straight in the eyes. "I have a message for you."

His cold, gray eyes were staring holes into me, and his blond hair was slightly more unruly than it usually was.

"Draco, I told you not to talk to me in public! What in Merlin's name are you trying to do, you prat? Are you trying to get me caught or something?" I hissed, trying to make it look like I was ignoring him rather than scolding him.

"It's important, you have to hear it," he hissed back, fake-glaring at me. His eyes betrayed some sort of emotion, one I couldn't identify.

"Later," I muttered back, scanning the crowd for the pair of green eyes I knew would be watching. I found them, staring at me, trying to comprehend why I was talking to Draco Malfoy.

"Get away from me, Malfoy," I said, raising my voice. I knew Harry could hear me from where he sat.

"Tonight. Meet me in the Potions hallway," he muttered.

Then he sneered at me and said cruelly, "You're not worth my time." He walked out of the Great Hall, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle as they pathetically tried to follow him.

I rushed over to the Gryffindor table, taking my place across from Harry and next to Hermione.

"Hi," I managed to force out, trying to catch my breath. "I made it within twenty minutes, Hermy, aren't you proud of me?"

Hermione turned to me with an exasperated look.

"I've told you not to call me Hermy before, Keira," she said slowly, as if I were having issues this morning.

Granted, I was.

"What were you talking to Malfoy about?" Harry asked me, his voice laced with suspicion.

I gulped nervously.

"Nothing, I don't talk to people like Malfoy. He was just being Malfoy. You know, snooty and pratty." I ad-libbed quickly.

Harry looked at me skeptically, but chose to believe what I had said. I sighed, relieved. However, a nagging part of my mind hinted to me that he would be in a pissy mood again today. I sighed again, this time not-so-relieved. This really was going to be a long day.

I threw my bag down by my bed, letting out a satisfied sigh. The day was finally over, and I was looking forward to the weekend ahead. Sixth year was being a pain so far, and we were barely a week into school.

Attempting to drag myself off of my bed, I flailed around violently, kicking my feet up in the air. I was just about to push myself up with my arms when I heard a voice.

"Keira. What are you doing?" the surprised voice of Hermione came from the doorway.

"I can't get up! Help!" I cried, trying to hold back laughter.

Hermione walked towards me and helped me up off my bed.

"Honestly, you're sad," she said, shaking her head. She stopped at her bed, located next to mine, and set down her stuff, wand excluded.

I stood there, bewildered.

"Hey Mione, why aren't you keeping your stuff in the Common Room? Aren't you going to do homework?" I asked, extremely confused.

She rolled her eyes, shooting an exasperated look at me.

"I would, but today we're playing some weird game things after dinner. Ron told me to put my stuff up. He wasn't sure whether or not to do it, but after he got Harry convinced, we decided to go ahead."

"Oh," I said, trying to cover my emotions. I had hoped to spend some time with Harry today, but apparently he was going to be busy with Ron and Hermione. "Have fun."

"Jeez Kee, you know you're participating in this too, right?"

I perked up, surprised at this comment.

"Really, I AM?" I squealed, my happy mood instantly returning. I grinned, feeling my cheeks strain.

Hermione yet again rolled her eyes.

"Duh, Keira. You know Harry wouldn't join anything if you weren't in it. I mean, maybe you can reverse his bad mood. It was your fault in the first place, you know," she said with an amazing sense of tact.

"Gawsh, Hermy. Thanks a bunch," I muttered, recalling the events earlier in the day. "It's not my fault Draco Malfoy is a right prick. He just walked up to me! What was I supposed to do, hex him? He may be insufferable, but he hasn't done anything to me yet this year."

"I bet Harry would've appreciated it more if you had hexed him," Hermione inserted with a light shrug.

I, in turn, rolled my eyes at her and headed for the door.

"Come on, let's go to dinner. You can sit by Ron again," I said in a sing-song voice, emphasizing Ron. Hermione blushed and quickly walked past me, holding her nose up in the air and ignoring my comment.

I grinned, happy to have gotten to her. This was going to be a great night.

Dinner had been over for a couple of hours, and Harry, Hermione, Ron and I were sitting in the Common Room, not doing much but chattering softly. There were still a few people lounging around, procrastinating and talking both.

I yawned, stretching on the comfy couch I was lying on.

"It's Friday night, you guys. We should be partying, not being lazy. 'Mione said we would be playing a game!" I said, my boredom quickly progressing to crabbiness.

Ron turned to me from the love seat he shared with Hermione.

"We're going to play, we just have to wait until Seamus and Dean return with the necessary… materials," he said.

At that moment, the portrait creaked open, and Seamus, Dean, Parvati, Lavender, Neville, and Ginny trooped in, snorting over something that had happened. Seamus was carrying a large, paper bag. Its contents clanked around ominously.

I eyed the bag suspiciously.

"What's in that bag?" I asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

Dean grinned and reached into the bag to pull out a small, clear glass.

"Shot glasses!" he crowed, sniggering.

I looked at the crowed, which had now burst out into laughter.

"We're DRINKING?" I asked, shocked. I had hung out with this crowd several times, but none of them seemed to be the type to consume alcohol for leisurely purposes.

Parvati and Lavender grinned at each other.

"Of course not, Keira!" they both said at the same time.

"We're playing Russian Roulette with firewhiskey," Ginny said, shooting a seductive look at Harry. He ignored her and continued to stare at the shot glass Dean was still holding up.

I turned to look at Ron. He was grinning like a maniac and had obviously planned this. Hermione, on the other hand, looked at Ron with disbelief written all over her face. She stood up, turning to leave.

"Ronald Weasley, you and I are prefects! How could you think I would be okay with this? And how did you get firewhiskey and shot glasses anyway?"

Ron turned to Hermione, the grin falling off his face.

"Please stay, 'Mione, please? It's not like we're drinking a lot. It's just one shot, nothing big," he pleaded with her.

She sighed and looked at him. His eyes were wide with innocence.

"Fine then. But if we get anywhere near emptying that bottle, I am NOT going to be happy."

"YES!" everyone cheered, and rushed to sit down by the fire. I sighed and turned to face the middle.

Harry turned to me and shot me a smile. He got up and proceeded to sit next to me. I smiled at him in return and scooted over to make room for him.

"Okay, you all know how to play, right?" Seamus asked.

"No," Neville muttered. We all turned to face him, and he blushed an interesting shade of red.

"That's okay, Neville. It's quite easy, really," Dean said. "We have ten glasses. All of them except one will be filled with water. The other one will be filled with firewhiskey. I'm going to do this magically, so no one knows. Then we all pick a glass and drink it. Whoever gets the firewhiskey, well, sucks for them!"

Neville nodded, and Dean picked up his wand. He tapped the bottle of firewhiskey once and the glasses instantly filled up.

"Okay, ready?" Ron asked, reaching out to grab a shot glass. "Everyone, grab one."

We all reached out to take a glass.

"Okay, on the count of three. One… Two… Three!"

We all gulped down the contents as fast as possible.

"Ahhh," Hermione groaned. "I got it!" She set down the cup in a hurry, and massaged her temple. "My head hurts," she groaned.

I snickered. Harry let out a quiet chuckle and said under his breath, "How ironic."

"Okay, glasses back in the middle," Seamus said. He tapped the bottle of firewhiskey again, and the glasses filled. I grabbed the farthest one.

"Ready… Drink!"

I swallowed the liquid in the glass and groaned.

"Great," I said, dropping the glass onto the couch. "Firewhiskey. I hate this stuff."

The rounds went on and on, and by the end, Harry, Neville, Ginny, and Dean had all gotten the alcohol, along with Hermione on seconds.

It was getting late, around 1 in the morning, when Harry suggested we call it quits for the night. We all concurred and slowly started trickling away.

In the end, Harry and I were the only ones left for the night.

He smiled at me before lightly kissing my cheek. I blushed candy-apple red and looked down, embarrassed.

"Good night," he said and walked away.

"'Night," I called after him. He went up the stairs and left my view. It was only then when I allowed myself to give an excited squeal and spin around in circles.

Maybe Harry felt the same way about me as I did about him. Well, I thought, only time can tell now.


End file.
